I Rather Not
by angryoldmen
Summary: I dared to write a DRUNK!fic, go me. The only thing I can say in my defense is yes, there is a plot, and it's slightly entertaining. Nothing like Hermione and a bottle of vodka.
1. one

"Malfoy, get away from me." she turned around and spat, focusing her glare on its subject only to have him return her defiant stare with a charming smile. She pulled herself up, struggling with gravity slightly, and walked towards the living room, "I need to find Parvati and Lavender, I want to go home." She muttered to herself only to be find the living room full of passed out bodies, one she noted as Lavender drooling on her hand and letting out a slightly audible snore. Hermione stepped over the crowd, stumbling slightly until she found Parvati- giving what appeared to be a lap dance. Realizing that Parvati and turned around only to become face to face with Malfoy. She gasped slightly before going around him silently and heading straight out the door.   
  
The warm air hit Hermione only to make her more dizzy as she determinedly stepped over the rocks and headed towards Hogsmeade.   
  
"If you go now, you'll be caught. It's best to go around 5, really."  
  
Hermione turned around. "Gods, you're persistent, aren't you?"  
  
Draco smiled with his thumbs resting in the front pockets of his slacks. "Now you can come sit down with me or risk spending the rest of your last year at Hogwart's with Filch."  
  
Hermione sighed as he sat down on the edge on the porch, patting the seat beside him. She sat down, looking in her empty cup wishfully.   
  
"Here." The blonde boy said, handing her a flask. Hermione took it into her hand and looked at him questionably.   
  
"What, did you poison it?"  
  
Malfoy sighed; "You need to lighten up, Granger" before taking a large gulp himself.  
  
Taking that as a no, she admired it quickly, noting the inscribed DM on the front of the admirable flask. She unscrewed it and gulped it without batting a lash before handing it back to it's owner. He took it with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Drink much?"  
  
"Hardly, this is my first time actually." With a finely timed hiccup, she looked at Malfoy, "You know, I've found if you've had a hiccup couple, then they kind of lose their taste, eh?"  
  
Malfoy's eyebrow shot up again, "You need to slow down, you're going to get sick." He said with a slightly slurred voice.   
  
"Since when are you looking out for my best interest?" she asked, making a hand gesture too dramatically and nearly falling backwards.   
  
Malfoy caught her, "Yeah." He said, pushing her back up to a sitting position, "you really need to slow down." He said under his breath.  
  
"Besides, you look pissed. It's not exactly like you're the epitome of perfection."  
  
"I beg to differ." He responded, allowing his infamous arrogance to make a guest appearance but more in jest than seriousness.   
  
There was a short pause that some consider an awkward silence, but then again, with as much alcohol as Hermione ingested, there was no such thing as awkward.   
  
"Who would of thought…" she trailed off.  
  
"Who would of thought what?" Draco inquired.  
  
"This." Hermione said, waving her arms. "Who would of thought I would live to see the day when Draco Malfoy and I shared a heart to heart." She looked at him with a smile, although behind those glazed eyes there wasn't a hint of jest.  
  
"You know," he began, looking down at his feet before sharing eye contact with Hermione, "I would of done it sooner had you given me the chance."  
  
Hermione starred at him blankly. "You're joking, right?" she asked. She leaned back, propping herself up on an elbow but never taking her eyes off Draco. "So all those times you called me a mudblood, it was just all in good fun? You're more pissed than I thought." she asked sarcastically.  
  
He leaned down, "For your information, I haven't called you a mudblood for two years."  
  
Hermione squinted her eyes, "So we're counting now?"  
  
"No, its just- things change."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth in preparation to fire back with something witty before her drunken mind made the connection that two years ago, the elder Malfoy began a permanent sleepover with the Dementors in Azkaban. She shut her mouth and nodded, directing her attention to her feet and the few strands of grass sprouting beside them.  
  
Detecting her unease, Draco clasped his hands and sighed, "Care for some drinks?" He grinned.  
  
"Oh really," Hermione said, shaking her head, "I really shouldn't, I mean, I don't need to, I'm already quite-" before she could finish her sentence she saw the Slytherin flick his wand towards the inside of the house. Curious, she looked inside in time to see a bottle of Fire Whiskey fly dangerously out the door and into his hand.  
  
With a smile, he uncapped the bottle and took a drink before shaking his head, "A little strong." He handed the bottle to Hermione.  
  
Nervously, she smelled the contents before pulling back, "It smells horrid!"  
  
Draco nodded, "Just drink it, Granger." He smiled.  
  
With one hand, she clasped her index finger and thumb tightly over the bridge of her nose, and with the other, she tipped back the bottle. After a large gulp, she pulled it away and stuck out her tongue, "It tastes as bad as I thought it would." She admitted.  
  
Draco patted her on the back in a comrade like fashion before taking the bottle.   
  
Hermione paused for a moment before giggling incessantly.   
  
"The funniest thought just occurred to me." She said, whipping her eye with her sleeve. "We have these damn pins," she patted the left side of her chest before finding her Head Girl pin, "and look at us. Do you know how many rules we're breaking? Imagine the look on Snape and McGonugull's face if they ever found out. They would bloody kill us!"  
  
Draco nodded in agreement, taking a sip of the potent drink before handing it to Hermione, "Especially you, Granger. You're supposed to be the epitome of perfection. I doubt they'd be surprised at me." He laughed.  
  
"To Hogwart's!" Hermione giggled, tipping back the bottle and thrusting it towards Draco.   
  
"Cheers!" he added, taking an even larger gulp.   
  
Hermione sighed and leaned against the wall, "You're quite nice when you're sloshed."  
  
"Same to you. I dare to say I have not witnessed any obsessive behavior in the past hour." He responded, joining her against the wall.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth, mockingly offended, "I'm really not that bad, not if you get to know me."  
  
As their eyes were locked, their smiles faded and Hermione found that her protective barrier of logic had been demolished. Her chest became tight and there was an anxious anticipation as Draco leaned close.   
  
"Hermione…" he whispered  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Spider." For a second, Hermione appeared confused before feeling six tiny legs crawling across her cheek. The girl jumped up and flailed her arms, slapping her face in an attempt to rid herself of the spider.   
  
"Oh gods, get it off, get it off!" She screamed. Draco offered a hand only to have her flailing arms inadvertently knock the bottle out of his hand and onto her clothing, soaking her pressed white shirt with dark red Fire Whiskey.  
  
Hermione sighed heavily and examined her shirt, "I'm soaked. Gods, I have to get it out, I can't go back to the rooms smelling like this." She buried her hand in the pocket of her robes before pulling out her wand.  
  
"iDuraxi- hiccup/i" Hermione covered her mouth, surprised. "Sorry" she mumbled before making another attempt. "iDur- hiccup/i" Hermione's eyes widened, "Stop, ihiccup/i laughing at ihiccup/i me!" She protested to a smirking Draco Malfoy.   
  
She looked up and took three deep breaths. Once she concluded that she was hiccup-free, she pointed her wand back at her blouse, "iDuraximon- hiccup/i"  
  
By this time, Draco was doubled over.   
  
Hiccup. "Jerk" she mumbled, walking inside.  
  
"Oh, Granger, I'm only joking." He declared, catching her as she stumbled over the legs of Cho Chang who was passed out against the staircase. "Here we go." He said fatherly, opening the door to the downstairs bathroom. Inside, was the unpleasant sight of Goyle vomiting profusely.  
  
"Okay." He said, closing the door, "Change of plans. We go back to the castle; you can use the loo there."  
  
Hermione sighed but realized it was her only choice. Most of the students had already headed back and she didn't want to be left behind with the few who had passed out and were sure to get in trouble.   
  
Surprisingly, Hermione had managed to walk all the way to the trap door behind the Weasleys' Joke Shop, through the tunnel and sneak half way to her room in Gryffindor Tower before tripping over a stone.  
  
"Oi!" She screamed, falling down. "Bloody hell, that hurt."   
  
Her scream echoed down the empty corridors and Malfoy knew someone would be there to investigate at any moment. Acting quickly, Draco scooped her up in his arms and pulled her behind a statue.  
  
"Are you okay?" He whispered.  
  
Hermione shook her head, "I'll be fine. I just need to get back to my rooms." She said, standing up and quickly falling back down. She balanced herself on one leg, taking her weight off the injured foot and giggled drunkenly, "Okay, maybe not." She whispered. "We can just-" Draco covered her mouth with his hand and pulled her to the wall against him.   
  
Where Hermione had tripped only moments before, Professor Snape stood and looked around suspiciously. Hermione's heart stopped as she prayed to the Gods to let him simply ignore the smell and go away.   
  
After satisfying his suspicions, Snape eventually began to walk away. Draco let out a deep sigh of relief, "That was close." He whispered. Hermione, still appearing quite inebriated, muffled a giggle with her hand.   
  
Draco let her steady herself on his shoulder as they hopped towards Gryffindor Tower. Only a few precious feet away from the entrance to her rooms, Snape stood idly talking to McGonagall.  
  
"Severus, have you been drinking? What is that smell?"  
  
Knowing that getting to her rooms without being noticed was going to be a physical impossibility, Hermione began to hop the other direction as quickly as she could with the help of Draco.   
  
"Behind here." Draco whispered, pointing to an innocent appearing velvet curtain. Behind the curtain was a small, tightly wound staircase which Hermione found to end in the dungeons. Draco poked his head outside the exit to ensure the coast was clear before leading Hermione to a magnificent painting of an old wizard.   
  
"Ar-" he began before remembering Hermione's presence. He clasped his hands over her ears and attempted to whisper to the portrait, "Ares"  
  
"What?" Shouted the portrait, "I can hardly hear you"  
  
"Ares" Draco snarled. The portrait who was quite admirable despite being hard of hearing, swung open.  
  
Stepping down into the room, Draco helped Hermione down the three steps and into an overstuffed Victorian chair. Hermione looked around the room, recognizing the Hogwart's standard bed and bookcases adorned in dark, green velvet.   
  
"Nice room. Anything to drink?" She asked with a grin, opening the drawer to the night table and peering inside.  
  
He took her hand and placed it back in her lap with a smile, "I think you've had enough, Granger."  
  
"Psh." Hermione sighed. "Can you help me get this off? It's beginning to get sticky." She began shedding her robe, revealing a thin white collared shirt. With no inhibitions, Hermione unbuttoned the top two buttons, revealing a hint of cleavage. For some reason, this surprised Draco. For some reason, he had never associated Granger the Bookworm with breasts.  
  
Hermione caught Draco's attention and giggled, "Turn around" she said, twirling her finger. Draco's cheeks blushed as he obediently faced the opposite wall and listened intently. Three buttons, four… five, the shirt was off. He could hear her throw it on the ground followed by the sound of her hoping to the lavatory on her good leg.  
  
"Don't just stand there. May I borrow something or would you rather me walk around here topless?" She asked innocently. A smile tried to sneak on Draco's lips, but he contained himself.   
  
"Er, right. Hold on." He opened his wardrobe and pulled out a dress shirt.  
  
"Don't turn around!" she reminded  
  
"I'm not. I'm laying the shirt on the bed, I won't turn around."  
  
He heard the thump, thump, thump as she hopped towards the bed and back. Draco sat on the bed and took off his shoes just in time to look up and see Hermione reappear in his shirt. His jaw hung on it's hinge. Oh gods, there was nothing sexier than a girl wearing his shirt. She walked over to him and bit her bottom lip in preparation for asking a favor. Draco gulped and reminded himself that the only thing sexier than a girl wearing his shirt was a girl wearing his shirt and biting her lip.  
  
"I was wondering, if perhaps, you know, I can sleep a little here before I try going back to my rooms? I can't get caught, they'll kill me."   
  
Draco paused for a moment, "Of course."  
  
"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, scurrying up on the bed. Although everything male in his body told him to join her on the bed, he pulled out his wand and reluctantly transfigured the chair into a longer, stretched version resembling a bed. Draco shrugged. He was tired, that was obviously the best he could do.   
  
Gathering pants and an under shirt from his wardrobe, Draco went into the lavatory to change and fake modesty by not sleeping in the nude. By the time he re-emerged, Hermione was thumbing the book laying on the night stand.  
  
"Gollywincium: A Wizard's Guide to Chemistry?" Hermione asked. "You're not taking chemistry." Her chest became tight and her heart beat fluttered.  
  
Draco nodded, "What's wrong with that?"  
  
"What is the atomic number for ununpentium?" She asked.  
  
"115." He responded curiously.  
  
Hermione moved closer, "and when does it solidify?"  
  
"At 298 Kelvin…"  
  
She bit her lip and crawled nearer, "And what would happen if Powdered Troll Seeds happened to be mixed with lawrencium?"  
  
"Two electrons from the Troll Seeds would combine with four protons from the lawrencium. Of course, this could only happen in a magical environment by…." Draco felt another pair of lips on his. Surprised, he gasped and began to pull away. "Shut up and kiss me." She purred. 


	2. two

"Hermione, hurry up!" a female voice yelled from the opposite side of her door. The mere fact that the Barbie twins, Lavender and Parvati shared Hermione's dorm was enough to make Hermione practically cry with joy when she learned that she would be awarded her own room via a Head Girl badge. Hermione shoved her hair up in a bun and meagerly attempted to flatten the frizzy pieces of hair sticking up in rebellion. In frustration, she yanked the band holding it in place out and threw it on the sink. Her frizzy hair poofed out in excitement as Hermione's face fell. It was April 30th, Beltane, also commonly referred to as May Day or Earth day. To some, it meant dancing around a huge, phallic maypole and celebrating Celtic traditions. To Hermione, it simply meant one last chance to indulge herself as a proper seventh year student should. For some horrid reason that she still wasn't sure of, she had agreed to make an appearance at the Shreiking Shack where drunken teenagers would let their inhibitions loose and drown themselves in rabid hormones screaming for sexual release while gulping Fire Whiskey. Keep in mind that to Hermione, like the book worm prototype she has never failed to be, socializing wasn't exactly on her list of priorities.   
  
Hermione sighed and opened the drawer under the sink that didn't manage to escape her anal retentive organization. Next to the perfectly aligned q-tips laid a brush that rarely saw daylight. Like Pavlov's tuning fork, merely picking up the brush made a conditioned surge of pain spread over her delicate scalp. After a few swipes, she ultimately decided that there must be a simpler solution that yanking her hair out strand by strand.  
  
Unfortunately, Hermione failed to stay after Trelawney's class for a useful informational on 101 beauty spells, so she opted for a more Muggle solution. Crouching down on one knee, Hermione examined the cabinets for a moment before pulling out a pink bottle. The bottle had been part of a so called 'beauty kit' she had received by her plastic aunt, Janet. iPeach Zucchini Hair Balm/i, Hermione read the bottle in pink cursive. Opening the lid, she took a deep whiff before closing it and wishing she hadn't as it smelled very similar to a wet dog fallen into a peach cobbler.  
  
Not sure of what she was doing, she poured a gradual amount in her hand and proceeded to soak her hair with it. Her optimistic side had hoped that maybe this concoction of Trixellic Hydroperogywhateverxide and red number 5 was a magical potion in its own right. But, as Hermione noted, the only thing it successfully accomplished was to make her hair look like it belonged to Snape. iDisgusting./i Despite the anxious voices and threats of being left, Hermione continued to shower it off.   
  
Disappointed with drenched hair, she made her appearance in the Gryffindor Common room. An obnoxiously perky Lavender ran circles around her best friend shouting out random compliments like a puppy begging for her owner's approval. Parvati with her oh so familiar I'm-too-good-to-smile scowl stopped in front of Hermione.  
  
"I love your skir-" Lavender began before a tan, perfectly manicured hand silenced her.   
  
"Down girl." Parvati said coolly before directing her attention back towards Hermione. "Are you going with us?"   
  
To Hermione, Lavender had always reminded her of a fair skinned doll come to life when she wasn't looking. Next to her, Parvati looked like Cruela Davill had picked up the latest issue of iChic Witch./i For a moment, Hermione considered running back to the comfort of her room and avoiding the night by hiding herself in a book, but before she could act, that manicured hand strapped itself to her upper arm and began to drag her out the door.  
  
"You were about to run back to your room. I saw it in your face. Listen, Hermione. I'm doing this your own good. I have yet to see you get properly pissed so I am not letting go until you start slurring, honey."   
  
Hermione's heart dropped every single time they broke a rule. They snuck past Filch with an impressive trick of the wand that caused a vibrant pair of pink undies to block his vision. As he fumbled, they quickly disappeared behind a statue leading to a relatively new walkway leading on the side of Fred and George's shop – a useful tool in the underground prank trade.   
  
They snuck around the shops and up the small hill to the Shrieking Shack. To the outsider, it looked like any other house that had been left uncared for the past several decades. There were no lights on, and no noise could be heard which left Hermione proud of her fellow classmates charm work. The only sign of life was a Hufflepuff girl, a prefect, with her head out of the second story window. Below, three figures sharing a flask in the shadows.  
  
"She's gonna blow!" Hermione heard someone warn. With timing comparable of Old Faithful, a concoction of whatever the girl had drunk or ate hit the ground bellow in a disgusting splat.   
  
"Did you see that?" Hermione asked her two unlikely companions.  
  
"Yeah," Parvati said nonchalantly, "She just can't handle her liquor. Does it everytime."  
  
Hermione was flabbergasted at the lack of logic people used. If you drink something to make you puke, why do it again? Her personal opinion was that liquor was simply a liquid people drank due to a lack of any intelligent, more constructive things to do. Up until now, that is.   
  
Inside, the house looked like a chaotic experiment gone awry. As she ducked her head to avoid a spider web decorating the front entranceway, a broom flew past her at mach speeds, nearly knocking her down followed by a loud thump, a slight pause, and a drunk giggle. Hermione shook her head in disbelief and continued through the doorway.  
  
As she stepped inside, a cup nearly fell on her head. In an attempt to find it's source, she looked up to find a Hufflepuff considerably smaller than the other boys her age hanging from the chandelier, rocking it back and forth in the middle of the chorus of an Irish drinking song.  
  
In a complete daze of shock, Hermione continued onward towards the living room, where several small tables were set up resembling a London pub. A flash of red appeared in front of Hermione.  
  
"Here, hold these." Ginny said with a giggle, dumping a pair of blue jeans in her arms and running off. Slightly confused, Hermione's attention was caught by the sound of a creaking door and someone shouting the female Weasley's name. The upper half of a nude Harry Potter was revealed by the open door before his face went red as he spotted Hermione.  
  
"Oh, Hi. Erm, glad you made it. Any chance I can have those back?" His eyes gesturing towards the heap of clothes in her arms.  
  
Hermione looked at Harry in disbelief before realizing he said something. "Right, you're clothes. Right, well, there they are." She said, handing them to him. There was an akward silence before Harry peeped up.  
  
"Ok, Erm, I'm going to go back in here now."  
  
Hermione's cheeks were red as Parvati forced a drink in her hand.   
  
"Drink up, it will make you nice." She smiled before heading towards a large group of people and leaving Hermione alone and unarmed in the jungle of Teenage Delinquency.   
  
Hermione looked down into the glass, examining it's contents. Looks like orange juice. She put the cup to her nose and inhaled. Smells like orange juice, it couldn't be that bad. Hermione put the cup to her lips, taking in a large gulp before spitting it back out.  
  
"There is something ivery/i bad with this orange juice!" Hermione warned a nearby Lavender. The girl who gave a new meaning to the term "dumb blonde" simply giggled.   
  
"Oh no, it's fine, it's just a screwdriver."  
  
Hermione gave her a look that displayed her misunderstanding.  
  
"Orange juice and vodka, sweetie."  
  
Hermione nodded, finally having a name for that ungodly substance in her drink. As Lavender walked off, Hermione was more than tempted to dump the contents but a little voice reminded her that the whole point of making the trek up to this so called party was to have fun, to lighten up for once.  
  
In calculated sips, Hermione finished the drink. Extremely proud of herself, Hermione set down the empty glass on the long table only to have Seamus appear and begin refilling her drink. But before Hermione could say anything, it was full and the Seamus was gone. She looked at the second cup dreadingly but was determined to let go off her usually anal retentive personality for just one night.  
  
Hermione held her drink curiously, swirling it around with a flick of her wand to ensure that the paint thinning alcohol was sufficiently mixed with the otherwise sober inducing orange juice. She held her breath and took a sip only to have her face contort and her lips pucker as the superiorly potent vodka rushed down her throat. Hermione had discovered it was best to get it over with than take her time with ladylike sips. She turned around and found Seamus at the bar again. With two highly unpleasant gulps, it was gone.  
  
"Screwdriver." Hermione ordered, slightly inebriated but refusing to admit it. Seamus Fennigan had a sudden sparkle in his eye as he poured an extremely generous amount of alcohol in the cup and added a dap of orange juice before handing it back, anticipating an amusing reaction. The Head Girl took a cautionary sip only to find it anything but unpleasant and downed it in two gulps that failed to show her feminine side. Seamus looked on in shock, pouring himself a double shot with newfound invincibility and a "If She Can Do It, I Can Do It" attitude before spitting it out rather abrubtly. Hermione saw a flash of red in her peripheral vision. She turned to see Neville sitting on an ancient looking fainting couch looking as awkward as ever in a bright red jumper that only brought out the red in his chubby cheeks. Hermione turned her attention back to Seamus, to find him wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt in disgust. "Another one?" She asked sweetly. Seamus nodded and poured her a glass as equally dangerous as the first.   
  
With Neville being a kindred heart in social situations, Hermione considered going over and amusing herself. As she walked over, a gorgeous blonde girl that Hermione recognized as a Townie performed a walk that she could only describe an amazing coordination between her hips and waist. Curious, Hermione back stepped and sat at a table away from the general crowd in a corner dark enough to not be noticed as she watched Neville. A short conversation between Neville and the blonde ensued, showing how truly uncomfortable Neville was as he shifted in his seat and faked interest in his empty glass. The girl, for whatever reason, looked on with admiration, ignoring the stares from the more socially apt members of the male class. The blonde took an unexpected move and leaned in to give Neville a short peck on the lips. Hermione gasped in shock and was sure steam would be coming out of the chubby little boy's ears at any moment, just like a Bugs Bunny episode.   
  
In the middle of comedic release through a classmate, Hermione gasped again, but for a different reason. A thin finger traced it's way along her jaw line with a feather touch. Hermione's instinctive urge to turn around and slap upon sight was muffled by the sensations brought on by a simple touch to her face, indulging herself in the nerve endings that chose to respond with such wonderful delight to incredibly simple stimuli. The finger made its way to the bottom of her ear, pausing before trailing off the side of her neck. Hermione leaned into it, subconsciously begging for more.   
  
"You liked that, didn't you, Granger?" an all too familiar voice mocked quietly in a whispery warm breath near her ear bringing Hermione crashing back to reality, hitting branches on the way down. 


End file.
